Chapter VII #2
Miss Elizabeth offered him an agreeable nod, then turned back to her soup.
A glance around the table showed the diners were engrossed in their food and their conversation, the murmur of voices and clinking spoons making a quiet conversation as good as private.
Miss Bingley was ostensibly speaking with the man by her side, though her frequent glances at Bingley and Miss Bennet—and even at Darcy and Miss Elizabeth—suggested she was not interested in what he had to say.
She was far enough away that she could not overhear, so Darcy felt secure enough to speak openly.
“I presume you have understood Miss Bingley’s intentions this evening.”
Miss Elizabeth smiled and sipped her water. “Yes, Mr. Darcy, I have understood them.”
“What do you think of her chances of success?”
“Lessening by the day, I should say,” replied she.
Curious, Darcy asked: “Has something happened of which I am not aware?”
Miss Elizabeth shrugged. “I believe you are aware of the salient points. The last event of note was seeing Mr. Bingley in Hyde Park with an unknown lady.” She fixed him with a pointed look. “Are you still unwilling to say what you know of her?”
“Had I any information to share, I would speak,” replied Darcy.
Though she appeared dubious, she allowed it to pass.
“Tell me, Miss Elizabeth,” said Darcy, “is your expectation of Miss Bingley’s defeat because your sister has told you that she will fail?”
“No,” replied Miss Elizabeth, her tone succinct, almost curt. “However, Jane is exercising caution—it is wise of her, in my opinion, given what happened in Hertfordshire.”
“Yes, I can understand your point,” replied Darcy. “Then she may still be persuaded?”
“If Mr. Bingley decides that persuasion is what he wishes.”
Darcy offered a slow nod. “But she will not yield to Miss Bingley’s pressure.”
“No more than Mr. Bingley will.”
“This is most curious, Miss Elizabeth,” said Darcy, turning to her once again. “I do not intend to offend, but your mother’s statements at the ball were unmistakable.”
Relief washed over Darcy as Miss Elizabeth turned to him with a wide smile, not taken aback by his statement.
“As you perhaps noticed, my mother has never been shy about stating her opinion. But it does not follow that my opinion—or Jane’s—coincides with hers.”
“Yet she is your mother and must possess authority.”
“Yes, she does,” agreed Miss Elizabeth, “but do you suppose that a mother is in a position to force a daughter to marry against her wishes?”
“That is in the father’s purview.”
Miss Elizabeth nodded, displaying unmistakable composure. Around them, the low murmur of conversation mixed with clinking utensils and the occasional laugh, while servants moved, soft steps designed not to interrupt the diners.
“It is. What you do not know, Mr. Darcy, is that my father would never force any of his daughters to marry where they do not like, unless the circumstances were extraordinary.”
“Such as a compromise, or perhaps the family’s future support.”
Amused, Elizabeth shook her head. “My father knows how dearly bought the purchase of such support might be, Mr. Darcy. The notion of Mr. Bingley proposing to Jane was agreeable to my mother—it still is, to own the truth. But should Jane decide it is something she does not wish, she will reject him if he offers for her.”
“Then I admire your principles, Miss Elizabeth. Your stance is uncommon in the circles in which we move.”
“Yet I have not learned to condemn them.”
To Elizabeth’s surprise, Mr. Darcy stayed nearby when they moved back to the sitting-room, engaging her in low conversation about subjects other than Jane and Mr. Bingley.
The gentleman was not deficient, though he was not verbose, leading Elizabeth to see more of him than she had ever expected.
Mr. Darcy, she suspected, was an excellent man, though one had to know him better to appreciate his qualities—Elizabeth understood how strange it was to think of the gentleman in that fashion, given her opinion in Hertfordshire.
While she enjoyed their conversation, however, Elizabeth was not so engrossed that she did not see what was happening around them.
On the other side of the room, an intricate dance was taking place.
Mr. Bingley had escorted Jane back to the sitting-room and stood by her for some time, but then they had separated, Jane speaking with another lady, while Mr. Bingley had joined several gentlemen.
Not long after, Elizabeth noticed Mr. Harrington approach Jane, and after several moments, the other lady moved away, leaving Jane to speak alone with the gentleman. This was, it seemed, not agreeable to Miss Bingley.
“Oh, Jane dear, please join us, for Charles related such an amusing story!”
Mr. Harrington did not protest, allowing Jane to depart without rancor, though Jane appeared a little reluctant. Then after a time, when Mr. Bingley and Jane separated naturally, Mr. Harrington again filled the gap.
“This dance is most interesting, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth to the gentleman the second time this had happened.
“It appears Miss Bingley does not mean to be thwarted,” observed Mr. Darcy.
“No, she does not,” agreed Elizabeth. “But I already knew that. Of more interest to me is Mr. Harrington’s behavior. Tell me, Mr. Darcy—do you have some knowledge of Mr. Harrington, or are you as ignorant of him as you are about Mr. Bingley’s mystery woman?”
The gentleman did not conceal his amusement. “No, Miss Elizabeth, I am acquainted with Harrington. He is a good sort—I know no harm of him.”
“That much I understand, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth. “My aunt and uncle are acquainted with him also.”
“Ah, yes,” agreed Mr. Darcy. “I did know something of that.”
“What makes me more curious,” said Elizabeth, “is whether you have any knowledge of Mr. Harrington’s apparent interest in Jane.”
“Only a little,” said Darcy. “One evening in company, Harrington asked me about her, but he did nothing more than that.”
“Which shows his interest,” mused Elizabeth.
“That it does.”
Sensing that Mr. Darcy could tell her no more, Elizabeth did not press.
A little later, Elizabeth had a chance to speak with Jane.
“Mr. Harrington is an interesting man,” said Jane when Elizabeth asked her about him.
“And he shows good judgment,” teased Elizabeth. “He directs his interest to you.”
Accustomed to Elizabeth’s teasing as she was, Jane contented herself with a smile and a nod. “I have noticed he is often present when Mr. Bingley is not.”
“Yet he has remained respectful and steady,” observed Elizabeth. “By my account, his attention carries quiet interest and allows you to respond without pressure.”
Jane nodded and turned to Elizabeth, and while she made no outward sign, Elizabeth could tell that his acquaintance pleased her sister. “I find his company both surprising and welcome.”
“What do you think he means by it?”
“At present,” said Jane, “I am uncertain he means anything. But enough about Mr. Harrington. It is time to speak of Mr. Bingley.”
“Oh?” asked Elizabeth, arching a brow. “Is there news on that front?”
Jane nodded. “Nothing from Mr. Bingley—just what I have observed. I have learned that Mr. Bingley is not mine, Lizzy. Something else has claimed him.”
Elizabeth regarded her sister with uncertainty. “You did not hear this from Mr. Bingley?”
“No, but I still know it.” Jane offered Elizabeth a smile, sad though a little knowing. “It is not that he feels differently, but he does not understand his own mind at present. Until he does, there is little to be gained from hoping where there is no room for it.”
“Then you are resigned?” asked Elizabeth.
“No, Lizzy. I have decided that I shall not be placed in competition with whatever distracts Mr. Bingley, whether that is the other woman of whom you speak, or something else. I shall not refuse to meet Mr. Bingley, but I shall do so with kindness, not expectation.”
“Then you have removed yourself from Caroline’s design,” said Elizabeth.
“Perhaps I have,” replied Jane. “But I do not do it with acrimony. Though Caroline has proven that more than simple friendship motivated her kindness, I still call her friend.”
“Nor would I have thought you would do otherwise.”
Elizabeth sighed and caught up her sister’s hand, squeezing with affection. “Though I sympathize, for Mr. Bingley is an excellent man, I cannot deny your perspicacity on this matter, Jane. Do you mean to tell Miss Bingley?”
Jane’s eyes crinkled with amusement. “Do you suppose that Miss Bingley would listen if I did?”
“No, I do not suppose it,” laughed Elizabeth. “Only remember that Caroline might not wish to allow such a simple escape from her designs.”
“Perhaps she will not,” said Jane. “That is one reason I will say nothing to her—after all, I am not closing off all notion of a future with Mr. Bingley; I am only waiting until he proves he wants it. I shall allow her to continue weaving her webs, but unless Mr. Bingley gives me some definitive sign he has reconsidered, I mean to offer my civility, but nothing more.”
“This is the most sensible thing you could do under the circumstances, Jane,” said Elizabeth, kissing her sister’s cheek.
Jane nodded, but before she could speak, Miss Bingley stepped to them, and for a moment Elizabeth wondered if she had heard their conversation. The supposition was proven incorrect through Miss Bingley’s behavior, which was warm and tinted with just a hint of insistence.
“Come, Jane, join Charles and me, for we are having the most interesting conversation.”